Sibling Rivalry

[Omi]

Marisa was barely touching her food, pushing pieces of pudding around the plate with her spoon as she listened. Eventually, she spoke up, her voice low.

"We shouldn' be back on Leeds, I can tell you that much. There's nothin' anyone can do planetside there. This here's the best chance we stand of actually gettin' our home back. No other force in Sirius's big enough or has balls enough to do it." Her expression could have been carved from stone, regret mixing with anger in a curious mix of emotions. "Th' Armed Forces sure as hell never defended us from anything, did they? Leeds's been under siege for years now, an' what have they done about it, huh?"

Her voice had risen as she had went on - now, she was almost shouting. Heads were beginning to turn.

"I don't know how you can't be angry at 'em, Mal," she continued, gritting her teeth. "Really, I don't. Sometimes, I'm scared I'll stop bein' angry at them too. Like- like all th' other stuff I have to do'll make me forget about it. Maybe I'm more Libertonian than Bretonian already. Feels like I fight Rheinlanders an' Rogues ten times more than I fight Gauls."

Glumly, she scooped up a mouthful of pudding and, finally, ate it. It tasted better than she'd expected - especially considering the locale. Manhattan was not renowned for its cuisine, but apparently every rough had its diamonds.

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